


The Prize

by Rochelle_Templer



Series: Inktober For Writers 2017 [1]
Category: The Monkees, The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Gen, introspective piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 12:23:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12299199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rochelle_Templer/pseuds/Rochelle_Templer
Summary: Mike doesn't like to lose things...





	The Prize

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my Inktober for Writers project. The prompt for this fic was "searching".

Mike Nesmith was annoyed.

He was used to dealing with money shortages due to the sporadic nature of their work. So he had mastered dealing with Babbitt and other bill collectors. He looked for bargains whenever he shopped for groceries. And he made sure to find ways to get as much use as possible out of every item they had to buy. Often, these tendencies led to some annoyances, but he had adjusted.

However, one of the things that continued to bother him was when he lost track of something he had bought. Losing an item was the same as losing money and that was something they could not afford. Thus, Mike had no tolerance for it.

This time, the item in question was a pair of guitar picks he had bought yesterday.

Mike frowned and searched through a nearby desk drawer. They weren’t the best picks, but they were all he could afford right now, so he did not want to lose them. He remembered putting them on the kitchen table when he got home. At the time, he had planned on leaving them there while he took care of the groceries and eventually decided to put them with his guitar this afternoon while the guys were out playing at the beach.

But now they were missing and Mike had no idea where they could have gone.

He shoved the drawer shut with a sigh. He’d found some marbles, some playing cards that were missing from Peter’s favorite deck, and a letter from Davy’s grandfather that Peter had forgotten to give to him. There was, however, no sign of the missing guitar picks.

Mike scowled some more and paced around the front room. He would have asked the guys where the picks were, but they were still at the beach, taking part in a sand castle building contest. Ordinarily, he would have been happy for the solitude while they were gone, but this also meant that he was on his own to find his picks.

Frustrated and at a loss for where to look next, Mike sank down to sit on the floor next to Micky’s drum kit. It was an uphill battle to keep the pad neat due to Micky’s distractibility, Peter’s habit of bringing home anything he can find, and Davy’s blasé attitude toward chores. Not that he minded that very much. Household chores gave him a way to feel useful in-between gigs and kept him busy.  

Still, he wished that the guys were more considerate with his stuff. He was certain that they had something to do with the picks being missing and was irritated that it happened.

He happened to look over at his blonde Gretch and was surprised to see a package sitting on the floor in front of it. His eyebrows furrowed as he picked it up and examined it. It was clearly meant to be a present, and judging from the copious amount of tape on the wrapping paper and the elaborate bow on the top, Peter had wrapped it while Davy made the bow for it.

There was a note attached to it written in Micky’s usual scrawl.

“Mike,

Me and Pete and Davy talked it over and we figured you deserved better than those cheap picks you bought. So we all chipped in and got you some better ones…and a little something extra too…”

Mike opened the package to find a pair of good quality picks that had an outline of the state of Texas etched onto a green and black marbled background. There was also a complete set of strings for his Gretch in the box.

He was still marveling over his present when Davy, Micky and Peter ran into the pad.

“Hey Mike,” Peter called out. “We won. We won something.”

“Yeah,” Mike said with a quiet smile. “I think I did too.”


End file.
